Had to be Drunk
by Kaoru2.50
Summary: In which Harry is drunk and Draco takes advantage. D/H slash.


**A/N: Just a little D/H slash smut to start your day, and because I couldn't sleep.**

He was drunk. That was the only logical reason that Harry Potter would be pressing Draco Malfoy, his long time rival, against the wall, shoving his tongue down his throat. In a manner most inexperienced, Draco wouldn't hesitate to add. The taste of firewhisky and wine mixed with something that was distinctly Potter to create a flavor not altogether unpleasant. Moreover, a night spent with the Man-Who-Lived would skyrocket his already infamous reputation to legendary.

So Draco let Potter cling to him, deepening the sloppy lip lock to something actually resembling a kiss. "Malfoy Manor," he gasped, pulling away from his night's entertainment to throw a handful of floo powder into the fireplace. Potter hardly noticed the shift from semi-crowded banquet hall to dark and silent mansion. He didn't bother to move to a more comfortable place, the settee was good enough for the little Gryffindor.

Potter seemed to agree, or at the very least didn't protest, his lips trailing a line of fire across Draco's jaw and down his neck, eagerly pulling aside the stiff collar of his dress robes to tongue at the base of his throat. Draco felt his heart rate speed up at that touch, and growled low as he pushed Potter so that the other man tumbled backwards onto the settee. For the space of several moments, Draco only stood there, his breath escaping in harsh puffs and his heartbeat thundering in his ears as he took in the man spread before him. Potter's eyes were dark with arousal, his skin flushed and hair disheveled, his once impeccable robes wrinkled and in disarray around his sprawled form. _When did Potter get so damned attractive?_

The thought had hardly crossed his mind before he followed Potter down, pressing their mouths together for another intense kiss, his hands pulling at the other man's tie and buttons until he could part the robes, running the tips of his fingers over the lightly haired chest beneath him, relishing the feel of soft skin and the flinch of hard muscle beneath it. Potter's hand tangled in his hair, soft sounds of approval and encouragement slipping from bruised lips.

One hand slipped lower and Draco smirked against the mouth under his. Potter gasped, jerking his head away to bury his face in Draco's neck. He could feel the rush of hot breath over his skin, and the press of fingers tightening on his shoulders as he massaged his hand to Potter's firm length, teasing and caressing until the other man rumbled a curse low in his ear. "Get on with it, Malfoy," he groaned and Draco needed no more encouragement.

He didn't get undressed, didn't bother to fully prepare Potter for the intrusion and slicked himself using spit rather than leave the dark-haired temptation long enough to find the lube he was only half certain he'd stashed in his desk drawer. No, half certain was half wrong and Draco hadn't time for that. He needed to be in Potter _now_.  
And Potter certainly didn't mind now, at first yelling out his pain at Draco's quick breach, fingers gripping so tightly to the rear of the settee that white showed in his knuckles. Draco had stilled and pressed gentle kisses to Potter's shoulders, tense and hunched over the edges of his wrinkled robes. The man's pain had soothed and when Draco chanced rolling his hips, creating a delicious friction that had him relishing the dragging sensation of his cock in Potter's tight ass, the other man had lifted his head, sharp gasps turning to low moans. "M-Malfoy," Potter breathed and Draco felt a jolt, like lightening race through his nerve endings. Oh, if Potter had only called his name like that before, that sensuous purr and soft rumble floating though those two short syllables. For the first time, Draco wondered if he hadn't wasted all those years in school, tormenting the boy when they could have been doing things so much more pleasurable.

Then he had no more thoughts of school, giving in to the urge, that primal instinct that told him to thrust and dominate, to possess. Potter's groans and gasps echoed through the room, pushing him further, driving him faster and harder. His fingers dug into Potter's hips so that he was sure that the other man would bruise, but he didn't mind. Let it bruise, so when next Potter saw them he would remember just who put them there. He leaned forward, keeping a steady pace as he thrust in and out and back again, burying his face in the curve of Potter's shoulder, nuzzling at the fine hairs at the base of his neck before sinking his teeth into that smooth skin.

Potter cried out in pain, his arms failing as he surged forward, caught from falling by his chest over the rear of the settee, the sudden movement doing nothing to interrupt the blond's thrusts. Draco grinned against the other man's heated skin, not caring that he tasted blood or that this mark might last longer than a few days. Potter was trembling beneath him and after tonight, even while Draco moved on to other men, other conquests, Potter would remember him and this moment forever.

He slid his hand around the man's hip, seeking and finding the hard line of Potter's dick. The brunet's hand, free now that he no longer bothered to support himself, was already there, stroking himself with short twists. Draco laced their fingers together, controlled the movements, coating his hand with Potter's excitement and ignoring that these actions were going to leave a horrid stain on the antique beneath them. There were worse reasons to remodel. "M-malfoy," the man keened and Draco could feel the muscles beneath him tighten. Potter was close, so close if the litany of moans and gasps of pleasure were anything to go by. So was he, his balls tightening as the pleasure built a raging fire in his belly. Potter's skin beneath his tongue and the hot blood that trickled from the bite painting his lips pushed his desire to levels he hadn't experienced before.

"I…I…M-malfoy… I-" Potter gasped out, his words flowing in time with Draco's quickening thrusts, though it seemed he could say nothing more. Then the man cried out, his body tensing and his head falling back to Draco's shoulder as tremors racked his body and he released, spilling his seed over their combined hands. Draco slipped his hand up, spreading his fingers over Potter's smooth chest, slick now with sweat and cum. But it held him still as Draco finished, his thrusts erratic, fueled by the twitching of his companion's sensitive flesh around him. Then he came too, biting harder into Potter's skin, stars bursting behind his closed lids as he muffled the cries of his release.

A few moments of silence followed and Draco shifted his hips, pulling himself free of Potter as he licked at the wound on the other man's shoulder. Moving with unexpected speed, especially given their so recent activities, Potter twisted, his hand gripping Draco and pushing him so that the blond was seated on the settee with a lap full of male. His brows furrowed as he took in Potter's green gaze, suddenly clear and shining with a mischievous light that made Draco rethink his conclusion concerning the man's drunken state. The brunet kissed him, hands cradling Draco's face, and fire racing from his lips to reignite every bit of the desire that had brought him here. Then Potter was gone, halfway across the rooms with his robes still hanging in a disheveled and stained mess and a wicked smirk, too wicked for any Gryffindor, on his face. He blew a mock kiss at Draco, still sitting stunned on the couch and followed the floo powder's trail to Diagon Alley.

Draco let him go, too much in shock to stop the man. He slumped down in the settee, closing his eyes against the scent of sex and Potter that wafted from the abused upholstery. Even if he tried to follow, and he wasn't entirely certain that he should, he was sure Potter had already left the Alley. He shoved a hand through his hair, then grimaced at the slightly tacky feel of partially dried cum. He shook his head and stood, making to clean himself and the room, only a little disappointed when Potter's aroma vanished with the rest of the evidence of their tryst at his spell.

When he thought of later, he might admit he had been… what had the muggles called it? Played. Definitely, well-played and by the Golden Boy himself. When he told Pansy about it much later, she would only laugh and say he'd finally met his match. And weeks later, when he caught Potter's eye across the crowded room at yet another Ministry function, and the dark-haired man sent him that same wicked grin, Draco determined that _this time_, this time for sure, Potter would be the one left wanting more.

** A/N: So I've gotten in a bad habit of writing one shots when I'm stuck on everything else, but it's probably been noticed by now. Anyways, reviews appreciated, and check my profile if you'd like to see more of my stories. **


End file.
